


Robin is Mine!

by ThatLewdWriter



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/F, Fighting, Futa, Futanari, Girl Penis, Girls fighting over Robin, Knotting, Magical cock, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Potions, Vaginal Sex, commission, cross-posted on HentaiFoundry, futaxfemale - Freeform, more characters and tags to be added, sex fight, tit fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatLewdWriter/pseuds/ThatLewdWriter
Summary: Both Aversa and Tharja want Robin all to themselves, and have no intention of letting the other take her. They decide to settle the matter cordially, but things quickly escalate into a sexual contest where the first to climax looses. Aversa is confidant, as she has far more experience under her belt - but Tharja's got a plan to use a magic cock to fuck her rival into submission. And from there? No one will be able to stop her ultimate goal of getting together with Robin.Commission for MaskofShame.
Relationships: Inverse | Aversa/Sallya | Tharja
Kudos: 38





	1. Tharja's got a Magical Cock

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be put in the notes for the chapters, as the second one varies from the first. Warnings in general for mild fighting/violence.  
> Commissioned by MaskofShame.

* * *

“I see,” nodded Aversa, the rim of her teacup right against her plush lips. She took a quick, dignified sip from the cup and set it right back down, seemingly at ease. “Can I take this to mean you won’t be backing down?”

“Not a chance,” retorted Tharja with slightly less composure than Aversa. The pale-skinned mage’s hands clutched her cup just a tiny bit tighter than her companion’s, the only indication of her rising frustration. “Robin is _mine_. You should try to understand that before she lets you down.”

Aversa chuckled into the back of her hand, all polite and composed. “Look, woman, Robin would never choose the one who’s always stalking her like a shadow in the night. Just take a step back and allow a real woman to take care of her from now on, yes?”

Tharja sniffed imperiously and crossed one leg over the other. She set one palm flat against the round tea-table while the other raised her cup for another draught. The biscuits that lay between them were left untouched, and their arcane tomes had been left to each side of the table; just within arm’s reach, but safely out of the way. “I can take care of her far better than you. She said so herself just the other day, when she was sleeping so sweetly in my lap.”

Aversa’s lips twitched. “Not the most comfortable place to sleep, I’d imagine. My lap, however, is a much more fitting place for Robin to rest her head.”

“...I didn’t think you would be so scandalous towards your own sister.”

“We’re not actually related, of course,” Avera replied coolly, a coy smile on her lips. “Something that Robin was quick to note - rather suggestively, I might add. I wonder why?”

Tharja huffed. “You’re delusional, is why. I’m sure Robin was just being nice to you.”

Aversa shrugged, and her over-abundant chest wobbled in a way that drew Tharja’s eyes. “Delusional? One doesn’t have to be delusional to notice how fascinated Robin is with my body. The girl is quite dense, I’ll admit, but she would certainly want someone that can properly satisfy her.”

“...Someone that’s twice her age?”

The tanned-skinned woman blinked, brows furrowing momentarily. Her cup, which had been halfway to her mouth, was quickly set down. “You - I’m not _that_ much older than her. And besides, with age comes experience.”

“Not enough experience to know when to quit.” Tharja brushed back her long, black hair over her shoulder. “My dedication to her is unwavering: If Robin wants experience, I’ll get experience.”

Aversa's lips curved upward in a slight smile. For a moment it looked like she was about to respond, but held herself back and calmly pushed her plate away - teacup, spoon, and all. “Well, I’d push the issue further, but it seems we're both dead-set on claiming Robin as our own.”

“Yes.”

“I understand,” Aversa said amicably, an earnest smile on her face. “Robin is special, so it only makes sense. Let’s not bicker any longer, then, and settle this like dignified Plegians, yes?”

Tharja nodded, eyes ever-so-briefly shifting over to her tome. She, too, pushed her little plate away, and then set both hands palms-flat against the wood surface of the table. “That sounds like a more sophisticated way.”

“I’m glad we both agree on that, at least.” Aversa smiled comfortably, like they were two close, old friends, and not two combatants in love. She held out her slender hand in a dignified, almost queenly manner, a show of friendliness and peace that Tharja couldn’t refuse. She held out her hand with far less grace as befitted her nature, but a calm smile graced her features. 

“Yes,” Tharja repeated gently, “I’m grateful for that.”

Her eyes flicked back to her tome, and with the speed of a viper, her hand lashed out and grabbed the heavy black book. Aversa, either expecting the movement or having had the exact same thoughts as her rival, did much the same, and within seconds they were both hurling themselves away from the table with arcane syllables on their lips. Chairs banged against the floor haphazardly, forgotten, and the table shook as arcs of black magic stitched over the open-air above it. 

Spells and hexes were flung at each other without care for anything like safety and propriety, and the deflected magic scorched the wood and drew gashes in the walls. Dispelled magic dissipated harmlessly, but there was always another spell, always another hex, both dark mages ever attacking. A downward bolt hit the table and caused the expensive china tea-set to burst into fragments, and the table suffered a similar fate a moment later. Though both were supremely skilled and well-versed in their magics, it was impossible for either to gain some traction over their foe; they were too skilled, too well-versed, and they knew how to counter each and every attack that the other could fling.

They were far too well-matched, and Tharja grit her teeth as she felt her magic run low. The concept of pacing was lost in the face of simply beating Aversa and trying to be the victor of their duel over Robin, and she could tell the taller woman was in the same state. Tharja was crafty, though, and there were many ways to win a fight. As the dusky-skinned woman cast nosferatu with an increasingly frustrated voice, Tharja was ready with a deflection and a sudden forward rush. Aversa had a moment to make a noise of outrage before Tharja slammed into her, bashing her with a firm, boney shoulder. 

It was a miscalculation, as Aversa was soft and curvy, and Tharja’s blow had none of the effects she wanted. She lashed out with her other hand and tried to grab hold of Aversa’s hair, but the woman’s tanned hand clamped down about her wrist and pulled her forward. Tharja stumbled forward, and tried to regain momentum by sweeping out with her foot - it might cause them both to tumble, but she reasoned she’d have the initiative. Aversa, however, took a smooth step back, and the pale girl only succeeded in worsening her position.

With a soft grunt, Tharja flicked her head back and hit Aversa’s chin, drawing a pained yelp from the white-haired woman and giving herself a bit of leeway. She jabbed with her elbow, winding her foe, and then made to hook a leg around hers - but Aversa wasn’t taken off-guard by the sudden assault, and grabbed Tharja by her silky black locks. She pulled on the younger girl’s hair until she made a noise, and Tharja could just about see Aversa’s cocky smirk out of the corner of her eye. The taller mage followed up by wrapping her other arm around her exposed slender neck and forced her down, effectively locking her in a chokehold.

Tharja sputtered and stomped her foot, trying and failing to shift herself of Aversa’s firm grip. The woman chuckled and ran her fingers through Tharja’s hair, slowly making her way down and over her shoulders. “That was clever, Tharja, I’ll give you that; but you’re second rate, I’m afraid.”

“S-shut up,” Tharja hissed, fingers clamped around the tanned arm choking her throat. Aversa laughed again as her hand kept on roving over her body, moving down to her perfectly flat midsection before sweeping back up again. With a snicker of amusement Aversa’s hand swept under the smaller girl’s breast, gently cupping the flimsy fabric that kept them half-covered and barely secured. Tharja made a noise of incredulous protest, and Aversa responded by continuing upward and grabbing a handful of soft titflesh. 

“Look at these,” Aversa taunted, scorn in her voice. Tharja’s modest breast fit perfectly in her hand, easily covered by her soft palm and eager fingers, and Aversa wasn’t shy to really dig her fingers in deep. She squeezed powerfully, bending the flimsy brassier and kneading the smooth flesh until it pushed out between her fingers and out of the sides of her palms. Tharja let out a shameful groan as the strong sensations, her face burning with embarrassment. “So small. Why would Robin want these little handfuls when she can have my large breasts? So much more to grab, fondle, and kiss; softer, too.”

Tharja let out a frustrated growl and brought her arm up as far as it could go before driving it back with ram-like force. Her elbow slammed into Aversa’s gut _hard_ , enough to make the woman gasp breathlessly and entirely steal the breath from her lungs. Her arm loosened momentarily, and Tharja used the sudden slack to pull away and then slam into her with all her weight, forcing Aversa back. She hit the wall, stunned, a pained look on her face, but Tharja gave her no time to recover. She was on her in an instant, but her mind was far from capitalizing on her gains.

She recognized that she could have rounded the fight firmly in her favour, but Aversa wasn’t just fighting to beat Tharja: she was trying to make herself superior, to humiliate the younger girl, and that humiliation stung. She wanted to give Aversa the same treatment, and so she zeroed in on the woman’s significantly larger chest. Unlike Tharja, she wasn’t wearing any sort of bra or wrapping, and her large breasts were only partially covered by her tight, clinging jacket, such that even the hint of a dusky areola was visible. The jacket covered little, really, and though Tharja now knew her own outfit exposed much of her slim body, Aversa’s left _nothing_ to the imagination, the full length of her womanly torso on display to anyone that looked.

Her hands grabbed at both of her full tits, tugging at them with fierce, jerky motions. True enough the easily bounced free of her jacket, exposing her stiff nipples to the cold air and Tharja’s ravenous eyes. Her fingers sank in deep, thin lines of pale skin buried in the cinnamon-coloured globes of breast flesh, and she rolled them in her hands. They were significantly heavier than her own and very pliable as if made of dough, and despite all that, she noted they were remarkably firm; she didn’t even _need_ support to keep them upright, and Tharja was almost envious of them. 

Aversa made a noise that sounded an awful lot like pleasure, and that irked Tharja to no end. She pulled her hand away from the right breast and replaced it with her mouth, which slammed down in a reckless attempt to find her nipple. She left a trail of saliva as she moved down, nipping and biting at her skin with the desire to draw a proper reaction from her foe, and soon enough latched onto her tough, rubbery nipple. The girl pulled it into her mouth and sucked hard, as if she was attempting to draw out milk, and made sure to bite down on the stiff protrusion. Each time she nipped and bit Aversa would make a noise partway between a sigh and a gasp, and Tharja took it as a victory.

She pulled off with a few trailing lines of sloppy saliva, and delivered a powerful slap to the sides of the immense, fat breasts. The flesh rippled appetizingly from the point of impact, and Tharja smirked. “As if Robin would like these cow-udders.” 

“Oh, why you -” Aversa grunted, and once again used her height to reach around Tharja’s head and grab a fistful of her hair - something that Tharja was beginning to realize she should have tied up before the fight. Using far more strength than Tharja would have believed given her womanly body, Aversa pulled and threw Tharja face-first onto her nearby bed. She landed with a soft thump, her legs partway off the edge, and she took a heartbeat to recover before trying to escape her new, compromising position. She did not have time, though, because Aversa was hot on her heels, and pushed down on her lower back with a strong hand. 

And then she halted, and there was a curious pause. Tharja chanced a look over her shoulder, and saw Aversa staring at her butt with undisguised lust and appreciation. It lasted for only a moment, and she raised her palm up to deliver a resounding slap to her ass. Tharja hissed and squirmed while her ass-flesh jiggled from the hit; her sheer body-stocking didn’t do anything to dull the stinging pain, nor stop her body from actually _enjoying_ the slap. From the look on the Aversa’s face, she had enjoyed the sight, too, and smiled.

“I have to admit,” she mused, raising her hand up for another slap, “you don’t have much in the way of tits, but this ass is simply delightful. It makes sense, in a perverse sort of way - a fat-assed girl like you is best suited bent over where one can’t see yo-”

Tharja twisted her torso like a snake and grabbed Aversa’s raised-up arm. She pulled while simultaneously twisting herself on the bed, drawing the buxom woman forward. She hit her shins and fell onto the bed beside Tharja, landing on her large breasts which flattened beneath her. She quickly spun over onto her back, tits flopping off to sides under gravity’s influence, but the pale girl was on her in an instant; she slung her legs over Aversa’s wide hips and straddled her dominantly, and slammed their lips together roughly. She acknowledged that, perhaps, kissing her to shut her up wasn’t the most effective way of keeping her silent, but her lips were nice and plush and felt oh-so-good against her own.

Aversa tried to pull back and turn away, but Tharja’s fingers wormed through her snowy-white hair and kept her pinned in place. The knowledge that Aversa wanted to break the kiss emboldened Tharja to hold it longer, and she even pushed her tongue into the damp cavern of the other’s mouth and roughly explored it. She exchanged saliva with quick motions of her mouth, and made sure to bite down on the older woman’s fleshy lower lips whenever her tongue pulled back. Their mouths fit together neatly, and Tharja kept up her assault with little difficulty until she needed air.

She popped off her rival’s mouth with a lewd slurp, wet strings connecting them for a heartbeat. Both of their mouths were shiny and wet, and Aversa’s lips looked red from Tharja’s attention. They stared at each other for a long moment, and eyes locked on and conveying the intensity of their convictions, and they both shared a cocky smirk.

“First one to climax loses,” Tharja grated, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders like a waterfall of darkness and tickling the tops of Aversa’s chest. 

“As a sophisticated Plegian lady, I accept,” Aversa husked, her voice having dropped in timbre until it was throaty and seductive. She was cocky, too, still self-assured, not having realized that Tharja was already one step ahead of her, and she was going to use that unpreparedness to win. She was, of course, a master at dark magic and hexes, and knew a dozen different ways and spells to curse. She was especially fond of manipulating the female form, and so, as Aversa began to run her hand down the sides of her svelte body, she started to intone the dark syllables that would grant her a cock.

Granted, it wasn’t a spell that was supposed to be used in this sort of situation - probably. Tharja had only ever done it to scare away others or detract potential suitors from herself or Robin, and in classical theory it _should_ have been used for mating and child-bearing, but Aversa didn’t need to know any of that. As she whispered her own hands moved under Aversa’s scandalously short skirt, and Aversa smirked at her as her own hands danced down her body. As the dark-skinned mage’s hands curved over Tharja’s hips her cock burst forth from the crotch of her bodysuit, tearing through the thin, sheer fabric and tenting out her loincloth obscenely. 

Aversa had a moment to look surprised before Tharja pushed aside her panties and slammed down hard, plunging the full eight-inch length of her magical futa-cock right into her soft pussy. The woman immediately let out a squeal, her body shaking as it tried to adjust itself to the broad length of dick-meat impaled inside it, and Tharja let out her own groan of approval. Though this was all to win Robin, she wasn’t ashamed to say that Aversa felt nice around her, tight and warm and pleasurably soft. Despite her tightness and lack of wetness the magic of her dick made it easy to get in deep, and she used that to her full advantage as she began to move.

“W-what the h-hells?” Aversa stuttered, right before groaning shamelessly. Her tits bounced high on her chest as Tharja worked her hips in and out, her dusky nipples looking harder than Before. “I-it feels so real!”

Tharja did not speak, as she needed all her strength and concentration on the movement of her hips. She wasn’t physically strong, nor all that fit, and she needed to put in work to move her body at a sufficient speed and intensity to properly fuck Aversa into the mattress until she lost their contest. It was a pace that was untenable and unsustainable, and for most people it would be too fast and too intense for proper sex, but Tharja wasn’t in it for the long-haul; she just needed to outlast Aversa. 

The woman’s cunt squirmed and rippled around her broad, meaty length. It grew wet with remarkable quickness, releasing a flood of sticky, feminine juices that washed over her she-dick and made the going smoother. Tharja grunted as she drew her hips back and plunged down with just a bit more force each time, moving hard and fast enough to make the bed dip and shake. Aversa let out shuddering sighs and throaty gasps with each push into her body, and she actively rolled her hips onto the invading log of dick-meat to properly impale her slick snatch. Inner walls bent and dipped around it, coaxing it in ever deeper, and Tharja was more than happy to try.

Slam after slam forced Aversa’s plush, voluptuous body deeper into her springy mattress, tits flopping and thighs quivering. The white-haired mage tried to spread her legs around Tharja to better hook her in, but the slim girl held her straddling position and did not relent for one second. There was nary a moment where her new cock wasn’t buried into the base, fully sheathed inside the damp warmth of her sopping slit. She never used anything less than a full thrust, either, constantly drawing the full length of her throbbing meat out before plunging back inside. Aversa’s folds had grown had long since grown red from the friction, and still, she would roll her hips and grind her clit against Tharja’s bodysuit on each downward thrust.

Already, though, Tharja could feel the strain in her limbs and the tell-tale ache in her cock. She was going too fast and too hard to last, and she was unused to this level of heady pleasure regardless - it was a riot of sensation, of tight, clamping walls and softly squeezing membranes, and a river of girl-juices that bathed her dick in sticky warmth. But she needed to cum after Aversa, and resolved to make the last few moments count.

One hand reached down and hovered over her pelvis, and the second moved to plant itself right on her fat breast. Again it sank deep into the doughy softness, but Tharja clamped down on her nipple between her fingers and squeezed it between them, applying as much pressure as she could until Aversa yelped. At the same time her thumb went down and found the woman’s sensitive clit, poking out from its fleshy hood, and pushed down hard. She rolled both stiff nubs with her dexterous fingers, still slamming her cock in and out at a blistering pace that had juices squelch free of her puffy folds, and then finally, thankfully, Aversa came. 

Tharja slammed down one final time, and as Aversa’s orgasm washed over her, so too did the younger mage’s. She could not hold on even if she tried, really, because Aversa’s orgasm-wracked cunt had tightened down until it was as narrow as the eye of a needle and as tight as a vice, and it constantly rippled and fluttered around her cock. It moved with powerful contractions, simultaneously gushing fluid while attempting to milk her seed, and Tharja had no choice but to give in to those wonderful sensations. 

Spurt after spurt of semen, created by the magic of the cock but given life by Tharja’s body, spilled from her meaty pipe and slathered every inch of Aversa’s warm cunt. The all-too-real seed was as warm and thick as it should be, and Aversa’s body quivered with newfound desire as the hot liquid filled her, going so far as to splash against her womb with high-pressure intensity. They both groaned simultaneously, and Tharja held herself upright for only as long as her cock had seed to spill; she slumped off to the side the moment she emptied herself, pulling her cock free with a rush of white baby-batter and a loud, obscene slurp.

She panted, resting on her back, but still had the energy to smile up at the ceiling. Her loincloth was off to the side and her cock rested against her flat pelvis, leaving a few last dribbles of potent seed onto her bodysuit. “Hmm. Looks like I win.”

Aversa sat up immediately, her once-immaculate white hair mussed and body flushed from the rigorous sex, but her eyes were wide and eager. She leaned over Tharja’s waist, her plump breasts hanging under their weight, and she eyed the small girl’s cock with undisguised arousal. 

“Magnificent,” she cooed, adjusting her body so that her chest was level with the cock. She reached out and brushed it with a tentative figure, and Tharja bit down on her lip as her cock throbbed with gratification. “It’s still hard, oh my.”

After a moment she broke out into a grin and sat up straight. She shucked off her jacket, baring her torso fully, showing off more of the red tattoos that lined her body - though, in truth, there was little more to bear. Her cinnamon-coloured flesh was ruddy from exertion and covered with a faint sheen of sweat, and her plump chest rose and fell with her excited breathing. She peeled off Tharja’s loincloth with quick, efficient movements, and Tharja now-sluggish mind failed to understand her intent. Once finished, Aversa leaned over her lap and went low, so that the rounded peaks of her hanging breasts brushed up against her thighs. She settled down a bit more and her tits dipped and flattened against her abdomen, as soft as cushions.

“Best two out of three,” Aversa drawled, her voice tantalizingly seductive. Tharja very much did _not_ like the sound of that, of course, because she’d _won_ , and she opened her mouth to deliver a particularly scathing rebuke about how the cow-tittied whore was just a sore loser, but those all died on her lips as Aversa took her breasts in her hands and pushed them around her hard cock. Tharja let out a whimpering moan as they soft, plush breasts surrounded her aching meat, enveloping them in a soft, warm embrace that had her mind spin. 

Aversa smirked. She lowered herself a bit more, allowing her breasts to mould themselves around Tharja’s girl-cock, and pushed tight on their swollen sides. She wrapped the turgid cock in a seal as warm and soft as her pussy had been, and Tharja’s mind was left spinning at the supple feel of those soft, heavenly pillows of breast-flesh. The light covering of sweat made them silky-smooth, and her dick easily glided between them. Tharja didn’t move, still trying to regain her lost energy, but Aversa was more than happy to bounce her tits in her palms, dragging them up and down the obscenely swollen log of girl-meat and massage it with her pliable breasts.

The older woman applied careful pressure by pushing on the sides of her tits, and it caused her side-boob to bulge out around her gripping hands. The sections where tit met tit nearly flattened against each other, forming a seal of breastflesh that was warm and inviting for Tharja’s dick. She did very little work herself and was entirely taken along for the ride, but Aversa seemed eerily happy to use her tits to get Tharja off - and though Tharja knew she shouldn’t let the dark mage get this advantage over her, it felt way too good to stop. Each time her cock pushed through that slick valley of cleavage she was left moaning, and when her sensitive, bulbous cock-head pierced the lush tunnel and poked up, the red tip harsh against the tanned sloped of her breasts, the sight left her in shivers. 

“So soft,” Tharja groaned under her breath, nearly squeezing her eyes shut. Her dick throbbed and pulsated against the clinging, hugging skin, and the friction of moving flesh satiated her aching desires but still made her want more. Her cock burned with need, an ache to release, but she didn’t want to give Aversa that satisfaction. The knowledge that the dark-skinned whore had gotten her off with her tits would be far too embarrassing, especially after what she’d said, but it was hard to hold on when those mountainous tits were being dragged up and down her length, soothing every ache before resting comfortably against her pelvis. 

Aversa, it seemed, knew her reluctance, and was clearly cleverer than Tharja gave her credit for. When Tharja’s cock-tip pierced through her cleavage again her plush lips dipped down and kissed the head, forming a soft ring that made the girl’s head spin - and then she did it again, and then _again_. Soon Tharja’s over-sensitive cock was pulsating wildly, barely holding in her seed, and the younger mage’s jaw was clenched tight; that was when Aversa launched her coup-de-grace and took the topmost few inches of cock-meat into her mouth.

She sucked with firm, diligent movements that displayed her experience, and Tharja was coaxed into an orgasm far swifter than she’d thought possible. The same quantity of sperm as before, aided by magic, spurted into her mouth, and Aversa carefully but swiftly sucked it down. Her cheeks worked and nearly went concave as she sucked, and her throat moved rhythmically as she slurped down mouthfuls of hot, tangy semen with little delay. Her tongue constantly coiled around the throbbing length, collecting anything that would otherwise slip free. The noises her mouth made were loud and lewd, great slurps and sucks that excited the primal parts of Tharja’s mind.

Aversa kept on sucking long after her orgasm had subsided, ensuring that not a single drop of warm baby-batter went to waste. She wrapped her lips around the bulbous head and gave it a few final vacuuming sucks, taking in anything that remained, before letting go with a sloppy popping noise. She smiled and ran a finger over her lips, locking eyes with Tharja, and then slowly and deliberately crawled up her body. Her breasts slid along her bodysuit the entire way, providing pinpoints of pleasure for the younger girl to fixate on. She tried not to look at Aversa’s approaching face, but when she was finally right in front of her, there was no other choice. She fixed her with as annoyed a look as she could manage but Aversa didn't seem to care, especially not when she locked their lips together.

This time Aversa was in charge of the kiss, and led it slowly and passionately, unlike Tharja’s dominating suck from earlier. It was steamy and intimate, the kind of kiss that could seduce the most stalwart of heroes and have the most chaste of princesses fall in love, and Tharja couldn’t fight it. She eagerly traded spit and locked tongues, enjoying the warmth of her mouth and the skill of her movements. 

Aversa pulled back first, biting her lip and laughing softly. “Looks like we’re tied.”

Tharja blinked, frowned, and then her face darkened. “So it would seem.”

Aversa opened her mouth to speak. “How about we -”

Tharja was not listening. She set both hands on Aversa’s wide waist and heaved, flipping the woman over onto her front. She huffed and shifted herself, but Tharja repeated the motion and sent Aversa tumbling. Groaning in frustration, the dark-skinned woman flipped her hair from in front of her face and looked over her shoulder as Tharja settled in behind her, and she decided for a cocky smirk.

“Well, I guess this would do,” Aversa murmured, wiggling her hips from side to side and displaying the entirety of her heart-shaped ass. Her miniskirt had ridden up in the commotion, baring the bubbly curves of her rear, and the sight was enough to have the blood pound in Tharja’s ears. “If you can handle it.”

Tharja grabbed Aversa’s waist and tugged, pulling her ass up and pushing her stocking-covered legs to the side. Her garters almost snapped under the strain, but held firm as Aversa’s ass was manhandled into the air, soaked cunt on display. Her face was shoved further into the mattress in response, and Tharja didn’t stop until the woman’s red-tattooed back formed a steep curve. Once satisfied she rose up onto her knees and aligned her cock with the puffy folds of her cunt, and with the same gusto and lack of ceremony as before, slammed the entirety of her length inside in one go.

Aversa shrieked into the mattress, and Tharja started up into an immediate series of punishing thrusts and jabs that were well-suited to pummeling a warm pussy like hers. Her walls clamped down around her instantaneously, wrapping her up in their vice-like hug, but Tharja powered through the clamping folds without delay. She let nothing slow her as she moved her hips, pushing through the tightness of her tunnel and penetrating deep into her soft snatch. The cum from earlier and the copious amounts of collected girl-juices sloshed under her intensity and squelched as they were remorse churned, a lewd chorus that was only matched by their clapping flesh.

Tharja held Aversa down as she fucked, ensuring that she maintained control. Her svelte hips met her fat ass with great clapping sounds, and the force of those blows had her flesh crater and wobble. The hard, fast treatment seemed to be just what Aversa liked, as her lewd and sultry moans grew louder and more frequent as Tharja railed her cunt for all she could. There was no holding back, no attempt at conservation; this was the tiebreaker and Robin was on the line, so if Tharja had to fuck until she was unconscious and Aversa was fucked into a stupor, she’d do it. 

She put _everything_ into her thrusts, until her pale hips were a blur of high-speed strokes and her hips collided with meteoric force. Aversa’s back dipped even further, her ass pushing out ever more as she settled into the intense fucking, submitting to Tharja’s magical cock and begging for more of it. Tharja kept her place between the dark, stockinged legs, and whenever her hands weren’t running over the curve of her ass they were playing with the straps of her frilly garters and lacy lingerie. She wasn’t shy to slap Aversa’s ass, either, something that Aversa’s guttural moans indicated was very much appreciated.

Impulsively, Tharja reached out and grabbed Aversa’s arms, which had been beside her body with her palms-flat beside her head. She tugged them back all the way, holding onto her wrists like they were the reins of a horse, and used them as leverage as she fucked; she pulled herself into Aversa’s spasming cunt, relishing the warmth and texture, and the pulling motions forced Aversa’s body back, too. Her ass clapped and spine dipped, and the quivering of her body took on a new intensity as pleasure rocked her. Her body rose and fell each time Tharja pulled on her arm, head momentarily lifting from the bedding before thumping back down, and her breathing grew deep and ragged as the minutes passed.

Tharja didn’t care that the reckless, relentless fucking was making her body sore, or causing Avera’s voluptuous frame to go red from the stinging friction. She didn’t care, either, that the lewd, syrupy fluids sloshing free of her cunt was staining the bed. All that mattered was winning, and she translated that desire into every stroke and thrust, every slap and pull, until Aversa’s body got the idea and began to shake with orgasmic bliss. She yelled out Tharja’s name as she came, body roiling and quaking, eyes almost rolling back into her skull. Before her orgasm even finished Tharja was already cumming, pulling back on Aversa’s arms and slamming in one final time so hard that her ass nearly went flat from the impact, and her bulbous cock-head kissed her womb.

Another potent load of semen washed through her wildly spasming cunt, blasting her womb with fluid and overflowing her tunnel in the first few pumps. A thick river of semen washed over her cock and gummed up the already cum-filled tunnel, and great strings of the virile stuff poured from her wide-stretched cunt lips. Tharja’s meaty, turgid cock continued to pulsate even as her tired body slumped down against Aversa’s, and with nothing holding them up they both thumped against the bed.

“I think…” Aversa started, but stopped short as she tried to regain her ragged breathing. Her white hair was a wild mess, with locks of it mattered to her tanned face and covering her tattoos. “I - I concede. Y-ou win. With a c-cock like that…”

Tharja felt so unbearably tired that she could barely comprehend it, and she was fairly sure she was going to fall asleep in Aversa’s bed -something she never wanted Robin to find out, but there was no chance of doing anything in this state. But it wasn’t like Aversa was the worst person to be found with, right? She might not be destined for Robin like Tharja was, she did have a good body and a wonderful tongue - in all meanings - and she wasn’t unpleasant to be around, either…

“I told you Robin was mine,” Tharja said and then giggled to herself, almost maniacally. “But… I don’t think I mind sharing a bit with you.”

* * *


	2. Unintended Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tharja, now without Aversa to challenge her, makes a plan to seduce Robin into being her loving partner for the rest of her days. With a dash of werewolf fur in a love potion base, the trap is set up. Now, all Robing has to do is answer her summons, walk through the library door, get splashed with the charming potion, and - 
> 
> \- Wait. That's not Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Mother/Daughter Incest (Tharja/Noire), Werewolf cock, and knotting.

* * *

Tharja wanted one thing - well, one person, and that one person was Robin. She  _ wanted  _ her, and with Aversa out of the way, the girl was hers for the taking. That, however, didn’t mean that Robin actually  _ was  _ hers. Getting a contender for her heart out of the way still left the target of her affections as - well, her target. The Sorceress had a perfect plan for that, though. Sure, there were silly things like asking her out or romancing her, but her solution was as perfect as it was fool-proof. 

Her plan was elegant: a love-potion, crafted from rare and rich ingredients, augmented with a few choice mushrooms that were the crux of any cock-growth spell. Sprinkled in was a dash of werewolf fur to induce a state of heat, Robin would be thrown into in uncontrollable lust that would see her fall upon the first thing in sight: Tharja, positioned  _ just  _ right so that her ass would be presented to the newly-minted and horribly-aroused futa. 

Of course, she couldn’t just poison Robin’s food - that wasn’t enough for it to take effect. Her solution there was somewhat less elegant, but no less perfect: she set a vat of it above the doorway to the library, and so, once Robin walked in at her invitation, she would be absolutely drenched in the potion. Truly, it was all  _ flawless.  _ Robin  _ always  _ accepted her invitations to the library, so this time would be no different. Doing so in the dark of night would allow them privacy, and no one would suspect a thing. Really, it was just a matter of time, not success. 

Nothing could go wrong. 

She waited for Robin with bated breath, eager and excited. She played with the stacks of books she used in her research and shuffled around papers, but it was all idle. She waited until she heard the tell-tale sounds of footsteps approaching the library, and almost squealed with glee. She got into position, not looking back toward the door; her body bent at a near nine-degree angle, her elbows braced on her thick, leather-bound tomes: all of it perfectly calculated to push her ass out, presenting it as if it were on a silver platter. It was a round, plump mass of heart-shaped flesh, perky and bubbly, covered in skintight cloth that was too sheer for polite company. With her backside arched in a dip, any hot-blooded girl would find it  _ irresistible.  _

Namely Robin, once she was struck with the potion. She’d see Tharja bent over the books, her spine dipping in like a spoon, her legs perfectly straight and set together, and her ass pushed out in lush hemispheres, and would be unable to resist mounting her like a feral animal. The sorceress’s certainty imbued her with confidence, and she stared straight on ahead as the door opened - not even bothering to look back. She, still, didn’t look as she heard a loud, girlish gasp, heard liquid hit the floor, and listened to the echoing clang of metal. 

_ Success,  _ she thought, biting her lip in glee. The sound of the bucket hitting the floor had her body flushing with excitement, which was augmented by the sound of slow dripping and female panting - all of it indicated that,  _ yes,  _ Robin had opened the door, soaked herself in the potion, and it was taking effect. She wanted to turn and confirm that the trap had worked, but she didn’t; she knew that was just her excitement speaking for her, and so she remained in position, presenting her ass up to the woman she was so ready to offer her body in its entirety to. 

With a heavy pant Robin took a step forward, and Tharja let out an excited breath. She still acted as if everything were totally normal, though, even as footsteps rapidly approached. Shivers ran through her as she mused on the possibilities - of what Robin would  _ say,  _ what she would  _ do.  _ She knew she'd be rough, but how? Would she take her like a bitch in heat, mount her and rail her? Would she spin her around and force her down? Maybe she would only grope her body as if she owned it, which, personally, thrilled the sorceress to her core. Robin deserved her just as much as she did in turn, and the girl could have  _ anything  _ she wanted.

All of her questions were quickly answered when the severely panting Robin slammed her hands down on Tharja’s ass in a fit of motion, sending her spine arching and her backside rippling with fleshy trembles. Tharja gasped at the hardness of her hands, but as palms grabbed onto the lush hemispheres and fingers sank into the soft assmeat, she only let out a shivering purr; arching her back further, pushing her backside up into those firm hands, allowing her crush to dig her fingers in deeper. 

“Oh, Robin,” Tharja cooed, “I didn’t know -”

“ _ ROBIN?”  _ A voice positively  _ growled,  _ and everything in Tharja went utterly still. 

_ That’s not Robin’s - _

_ “OF COURSE,”  _ the voice growled, hard and breathy, edging on a harsh whine and a wolf-like grumble.  _ “YOU WOULDN’T RECOGNIZE ME. I AM BLOOD AND THUNDER, MOTHER. I AM THE DAUGHTER YOU REFUSE TO RECOGNIZE.” _

_ Oh,  _ said a small voice in Tharja’s head. Her eyes were wide as her mind swirled and ran through the logic: Noire was there, and not Robin. Noire, her daughter, had taken the full-force of the potion, and, somehow, ticked on the strange alternate personality that so oddly and frighteningly reared its head. That fierce side of her daughter that was so often intimidating, now spurred on by a potion of lust and love and desire and a dash of werewolf fur to bring out the most primal urges in a person.

_...This is bad,  _ she concluded. 

“B-BUT R-ROBIN ISN’T -  _ nnnngh -  _ H-HERE,” Noire growled, her hands digging deep into the plump mounds of assflesh that Tharja was presenting toward her. The movements of her hands were hard enough to make her squeak, and she braced herself against the desk as she tried to look over her shoulder. “S-SHE’S… WITH CHROM. M-MEETING. I WAS SU...SUPPOSED TO - TO LET YOU K-KNOW -”

The half-shouted, half-growled words came out in stutters, as if Noire was struggling with the ability to speak. She sounded, in fact, exactly like someone that didn’t know _ how  _ to speak properly, and that sent a shiver of fear along Tharja’s spine. Just how strong was the werewolf -

The hands on her ass tightened, drawing a whine from Tharja’s lips. Her hands were harsh, digging in deep, stabbing fingers into the sheer cloth that protected her body from top-to-bottom and nearly ripping it by the sheer force exerted. She mauled it in her palms, rolling the bridge of her hands into it, pushing it up. Each motion made Tharja gasp, but Noire didn’t let up; her hands were rough and needy, and they moved without relent. They dragged up, roughly grabbing at the svelte berth of her hips, with one quickly moving along the flat plane of her stomach and the other pushing hard against her spine.

She groped Tharja without reservation, a growl and a pant on her lips. As the black-haired sorceress looked over her shoulder she caught sight of her daughter’s face, and what she saw was not reassuring in the least. Noire looked almost feral, her eyes alight with primal passion and her lips pulled back into something approximating a snarl. She was wet from the potion, the liquid causing her clothing to cling to her slender body, outlining the obscene bulge growing in her pants.

Tharja swallowed hard. “Noire, stop this silliness. I am your mother, and this wasn’t intended for you. Step back, and I’ll pretend that this never happened.”

Noire wasn’t listening. Noire wasn’t doing anything  _ close  _ to listening. She was very clearly lost in a haze, her eyes almost crossed over and her breath coming out in hard-edged pants. Her hands roved along her mother’s body without shame, cupping slender curves and moving over flat planes, feeling her out as her libido was now demanding. 

“Noire, listen to me,” Tharja said firmly, her words hard and stern. “Stop touching me - stop  _ groping  _ me. I am your  _ mother.  _ You will stop this immediately.”

A hand slapped back down against her ass, landing with almost brutal force - enough to make her whimper and send her rocking forward against her books. Assflesh jiggled away from Noire’s palm, but the slender hand was already moving down the plump curve. It moved down with firm purpose, squishing flesh, driving between the clefts of her soft asscheeks and delving down. She moved without a care for her mother’s words, a growl on her lips, and roughly peeled aside the golden strap that kept Tharja’s modesty in check. 

“Noire!” She gasped, but her breath stilled and her body shuddered as her daughter, without a single care in the world, pushed her hand right through her undergarments and sent her archery-roughed fingers pile-driving against the puffy line of her slit. 

They worked along her pussy, dragging across her lower entrance, and they did so with lewd ease. She was already wet, willing, and ready - she’d been fantasizing about Robin plowing her all day long, and she was terribly aroused. Something that, clearly, was appealing to her lust-stricken daughter, who made a noise like a triumphant animal.

“Noire!” She shouted, attempting to push herself off from the table. “Get a hold of yourself!”

She pushed, but Noire was as still as a statue against her; impossible to shift, immovable like stone. Her hands, gripping the table edge, started to shove. She used it to try and force Noire away from her, but she’d miscalculated just how firm and determined her daughter was. The only thing she succeeded in doing was tipple the table and sending them both toppling - with nothing to brace herself, Tharja couldn’t remain standing in such a compromising position. She fell backward, Noire falling with her, books tumbling down around her in a riot of fluttering pages. 

Unfortunately, falling backward meant falling against Noire and the fingers currently dragging across the entrance of her slit. They were unintentionally jammed into her cunt, her tunnel folding around two of her daughter’s slim fingers, and she released a powerful, yet involuntary, moan. Her breath whined out in the next moment as she tried to right herself, but to no avail. Noire’s other hand grabbed the back of her head and forced her down against the cool floor, while the other slid her fingers deeper into the plush tightness of her wet cunt. 

“Like that?” Noire chuckled, her voice low and scratchy. “Of course you do, you horny bitch. You’re soaked.”

The words were wholly unlike her meek daughter, but the split personality - or whatever it was - was out in full force and augmented with her own potions. She was, even worse, moving on pure instinct, falling prey to the lust inside of her system and the willingness of Tharja’s body. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t willingness for her specifically, only that she had a pliant, horny woman at her disposal, and everything inside of her body was urging her to claim her like a breeding bitch. There was nothing more to it than that, and it was purely all from a miscalculation on the sorceress’s part. 

She tried to speak, to open her mouth and see if she couldn’t stop her daughter from going too far, but the words died in her mouth once Noire drew her hand back. Her fingers slid out from her cunt before immediately being pushed right back inside, driving in with a wet noise and a soft squishing. Tharja gasped at the invasion into her body, while her pussy, instead, tightened receptively. Her body was ready for attention, her fantasies having primed her for sex, and now it was getting what it wanted. It was only her mind that was on a different page, and that, it seemed, was utterly inconsequential

“N-Noire,” she tried anyhow, but as Noire pumped her hand into her body, slamming fingers up into her velvet tightness, she did nothing more than whimper. The girl had a triumphant look on her face, and the hand on the back of Tharja’s neck tightened. It pinned her securely as her wrist flexed and her fingers slid in and out of her channel, moving into a quick and brisk finger-fucking that had her insides roiling with motion.

It hadn’t been so long ago that her own fingers had been there, in fact, working in and out as she’d fantasized about Robin. She’d stopped herself, leaving her horny but ready, and this was just completion of that - and it was a terrifying thought, because her body was loving it. That familiar heat from earlier was returning at full-force, sweeping along her limbs, and her insides were coiling excitedly around the foreign fingers. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the object of her lusts, only that there was someone else doing it. 

It left her moaning, and involuntarily as it was, it made Noire preen. She was out to please; not her mother specifically, just the partner that she was blessed with. Her body, lost in lust, was striving for it, and so each sound she drew from her lips made her happy. Fingers pumped in hard and fast, driving up into her slick warmth, spreading apart to stretch out pink walls. They fluttered and wrapped around her slim digits in turn, but she was so wet inside that her tunnel lacked traction. The fingers slipped out with wet pops and then speared right back inside, finger-banging her hard and fast. 

“Of course you like it,” Noire husked, her voice increasingly breathy. “So wet and ready for me...”

Her fingers pumped harder, working in and out, the tips arching to scrabble at anything fluttering against her. It was clumsy, but skill wasn’t what Tharja wanted. She just needed the friction and the touch, needed something to complete what her own fingers hard started, and for that, Noire provided amply. Already she could feel her pleasure mounting, a pressure building in her lower stomach, and it left her senselessly whining. She tried not to by biting down on her lip, but there was no use; she couldn’t stop any of it. 

“So horny, like a good woman should be,” Noire continued, sounding totally lost. Her fingers pumped harder and faster with each passing moment, rougher than she should have been, but it was all primal lust - and for Tharja, it was enough to send her over the edge.

Her face was red with shame, but it wasn’t something she could stop. She was helpless against Noire, her own calculated planning, and her own body - betrayed by a seemingly foolproof plan and her desires. She did nothing at all as her orgasm exploded out from her, sending limbs tightening and surging with electricity so intense they locked up. Her cunt tightened and gushed eagerly, spilling fluids over Noire’s fingers. They continued pumping, though, squelching the rushing fluids, senselessly finger-fucking her without letting her ride out her orgasm.

“That’s it,” Noire grunted. 

Without even waiting for her mother’s orgasm to subside, Noire was already moving. She was huffing with desire, and nothing Tharja could have done would have stopped her, that was for sure. She was helpless as her body worked through her current high and her daughter did as she pleased; one hand grabbing her hips, lifting her, the other tearing off her own cloak with a sharp noise and tossing it over her slender mother. Hands were hauled upon like twice and forced across her backside at angles that hurt her, and the cloth was tied around her wrists in a makeshift binding.

it was all idle, just a sidenote to the main piece. Her hands hauled up Tharja’s ass and propped it up on her knees, and with her face cheek-planted on the floor and her spine curved up to the jutting curve of her ass, she looked positively whorish. Yet, there was nothing to be done as Noire unceremoniously shoved herself face-first into the curves of her ass, driving her mouth up against her slit with a hungry growl and a puff of hot air. 

There wasn’t even a delay between one movement and the next. Noire just suddenly started to eat her out; running her tongue along the length of her slit, pushing her lips against her sodden core, pressing in with undeniable vigour. Her mouth sent puffs of hot air over her sensitive snatch, drawing a whine from Tharja’s lips. Her hands clenched and wrists shifted around the makeshift bindings and she tried to lift her head, but found herself unable. She quivered as her daughter’s eager tongue lapped at her cunt, the movements hard, fast, and rough.

Her body was still coming off its high, and so she was far too sensitive for something so brusque and sudden. Worse still, Noire was animalistic with her movements - almost feral in the lapping of her tongue and the plucking of her lips, which worked against her core with hungry growls and hard movements that sent folds squishing. It was slopped and messy, and she could hear each swipe of her tongue and shifting of her juices. Her daughter was driving her tongue in fast and deep, roughly dragging it along her pinkness and pulling up fluids with wet slurps that echoed through the room. 

It was intense, and not in a way that Tharja wanted to appreciate. She tried to hold back, tried to shift her hips out of the way and rise up, but her hips were held effortlessly by Noire, and her hands couldn’t move out of the cloth wrappings. Her resistance was meek, and the most she could do was stop herself from making moans of pleasure as she was eaten out so ravenously. It was almost savage, Noire anomalistically eating her out with each rough flick of her tongue and hard press of her mouth.

Lips rolled and teeth gnashed as she plucked at sodden folds, and her tongue rolled with muscular contractions. She was positively feral as she roughly drove her tongue across the length of her slit, messily pulling in fluids. She slurped away at her core, getting in close, her growls vibrating across her insides - and it was too much for Tharja. Not because it was good, but a combination of the animalistic, savage movements of her mouth, the previous high that had barely tapered off the entire time, and the sheer incredulity of it all.

She came for a second time, and her attempts at holding her moans and mewls inside fell flat on their face. She whined and hissed in pleasure, her eyes rolling up into her skill and her lashes fluttered as a second, more muted, orgasm washed through her body and sent liquids flooding her cunt. Noire remained there the entire while, kissing hungrily and licking greedily, laying into her snatch with newfound vigour. It was as if Tharja’s climax was calling to something inside of her, making her move even harder. 

Hands fell away from Tharja’s hips and began to pull at her clothing, tearing at cloth and stripping things off haphazardly. She was still licking at her spasming snatch, but the sudden lack of bracing had the older woman falling forward. She flopped down onto her stomach with a painful smack, and through the climax rushing up and down her lithe body she was sent yelping. 

Wincing and breathing hard from the heady combination of sensations, it took her several moments to realize that Noire had pulled away entirely. She rolled onto her side and peered at her daughter, still huffing, and saw her frantically undressing - pulling clothing off until her body was left bare. And, as her eyes scanned over it all, only let out an “Oh” sound. 

The potion had worked, evidently, and the werewolf fur had borne fruit - but not in the way she wanted. She was sporting a cock, true to Tharja’s intentions, and an impressive one to boot: tall, long, thick, and swollen. However, the dash of werewolf fur had provided the unexpected side-effect of gracing that already lofty pillar with none other than a canine knot, and Tharja’s heart skipped a beat to see it. Her eyes widened fearfully at the thick-looking bulge, and her mind was sent spinning with the implications of -

Noire, suddenly, grabbed at her legs. She yanked on her powerfully, tugging her toward her body with a hard growl. Tharja, whining, was dragged along her side before being rolled over onto her back, with bound arms twisting painfully behind her. Her daughter didn’t let up, though, and as she dragged her close she ceased pulling on her legs and decided to, instead, sit on her stomach.

The short-haired girl let out a rumbling laugh. Her cock was pointed menacingly toward her face, but that didn’t stop the girl from grabbing it and waggling it at her for good measure. “What’s this,  _ mother _ ?”

Tharja blinked, then swallowed thickly. “T-that’s a dick -”

“No,” Noire gasped in mock surprise. “Is it really? My mother, experimenting on my body  _ again _ ?” She laughed under her breath. “We should make sure of that. You do love experiments, right, mother?”

Noire released her cock and, abruptly, grabbed both of Tharja’s modest breasts with her firm hands. The older of the two suddenly yelped as her chest was so unceremoniously squeezed, bent around her hard fingers. There was a feral smile on Noire’s lips that only panicked her all the more, but when Tharja tried to shift back she achieved nothing at all. In fact, it only made it worse, with fingers snagging in skintight cloth and allowing nails to pluck at the sheer fabric. Chuckling darkly, her daughter’s lips twitched upward as she dug her fingers down harder still, and, just as unceremoniously,  _ tugged. _

The thin cloth was ripped apart to the sound of Tharja’s shrieking, but Noire didn’t care. She seemed to care about nothing her mother did or said, and moved with single-minded determination - ripping apart more cloth, tearing it away from her chest, allowing the pale orbs of her breasts to bounce free. They weren’t particularly large, but for her body type, they were significant. Noire looked fascinated, and the hands tearing apart her outfit stopped and immediately clamped down around the soft swells. 

“Soft,” she remarked, laughing to herself, fingers squeezing painfully hard into the pliant mounds. Tharja whimpered and shifted, her backside arching, tears springing to her eyes as her daughter so crudely stretched and mauled her breasts like putty. She inched forward across her belly as she bent titflesh around, squeezing so hard that the flesh bulged out between her fingers. 

She kept on moving, though, not pausing to really take her enjoyment out of it. She was ravenous and lustful, and one act moved from the next to the  _ next  _ without pause. Her cock slapped down between Tharja’s chest with an undignified  _ thump,  _ and her hands quickly started to shove the mounds of her tits against the sides of her swollen slab. She growled lustfully as she wrapped her mother’s breasts around her cock, much to said woman’s verbal protest, and shoved herself forward. 

She drove her cock through the silken valley of her own creation, panting entirely to herself as she stroked her cock with her mother’s tits. Tharja could see the sudden pleasure flickering across Noire’s strained face even then - the feeling of soft skin against such a sensitive shaft was sure to be overwhelming, and in that animalistic state she could  _ see  _ it. That didn’t make it any better, though, and she was only aware of Noire rocking her hips, bringing them backward and shifting out the swells of her sideboob along her engorged prick, and then sliding it right back up.

Noire grunted as she moved - hips rocking forward, ass sliding across Tharja’s belly, her cock spearing between her breasts. Her movements were quick, but measured - not  _ too  _ fast, and neither too slow. Happily, she thrust up through the valley of her cleavage, spreading breasts apart with the size of her girth and then immediately applying pressure with her hands to push them back together again. Each stroke made Tharja wince even more, for she felt the veiny slab rubbing against her flesh and shivered at the sensation of the knot pressing against her, and she didn’t like any of it. 

“Noire -” She started, but her words were interrupted without consideration.

“As soft as pillows,” she grunted, “just like Nowi said.”

_ Nowi?  _ She thought dimly, but her thoughts didn’t matter. Noire thrust along, driving her cock up and through her soft breasts, squishing them against the bulk of her shaft. Her hands applied pressure, squeezing down, holding her tits steady even though the width of her new cock sent them rippling apart from one another. Her hips bucked forward, sliding her shaft through the squishy hills of titflesh, her movements hard and needy.

Her cockhead drove up and into soft walls, nearing Tharja’s chin with each thrust. Her cock was long, and it reached deep - pushing through the entire length of her cleavage and spearing past the rounded hills. Her pelvis and her new ballsack thumped against the underside as she drove herself forward, her pace steadily increasing with each passing moment. The dick pushed through the squishy mass that she was holding together, parting flesh with rough and over-eager movements that made Tharja wince. 

Noire, smirking, added a bit more of a buck to her hips and a deeper jab of her cock. She stared down with undisguised arousal, seeing her mother as  _ not  _ her mother but just a sex-object. Tharja knew that the potion was meant to do that, but it didn’t stop her from lamenting it - certainly not as the cock speared ever closer to her lips, jabbing up and up and  _ up  _ with each adjustment of her daughter’s pelvis. 

Close and closer her cock approached, and from the look in her daughter’s eyes, she knew exactly what was going on. Tharja hesitated, biting down on her lips, and shifted her chin - pushing her head firmly out of the way. It did not matter, though, because Noire continued to ram her cock up through her cleavage and send the head forward, right toward her face. It started to pump against her chin, and she shivered each time the rubbery mass pressed in against the bone. Still, she kept her mouth out of the way and stoically held firm, refusing to give her ravenous daughter an inch.

She failed, though. All Noire had to do was let her hands rove up and suddenly pinch at her nipples, squishing them down so hard that electricity surged along her spine. She gasped, unable to hold it inside, and her daughter quickly and brutally rammed her cock up and into her parted lips. For a second, all Tharja could do was gurgle and stare down comically at the inch of cock that had just impaled her mouth, eyes blinking incredulously. 

“Oh, that’s  _ nice, _ ” her daughter growled, bucking her hips. Another inch of cock pushed through her cleavage and sank into Tharja’s mouth, making her brow furrow in concern. The last thing she was about to do was allow her daughter to fuck her mouth, so she started to pull her head back and extract the dick from her mouth - only to find one of Noire’s hands leave her chest and grab the back of her head, keeping in her place.

She sputtered, eyes wide, as her attempt to extract the cock was made useless in a single moment; her feeble strength matched by her daughter’s augmented power. With a forward roll and a growl she shoved her mouth full of cock, driving in several inches of pure hardness into the damp embrace. Tharja gurgled around the mouth-clogging meat, trying to push off and totally failing, watching helplessly as her lips were stretched out by the girth. The cock slid between her teeth as it impaled her mouth, feeding inch after inch inside. 

Noire, still growling, adjusted herself on top of her mother, rising toward her breasts and sitting with all her weight. She cut off Tharja’s breathing, but did not seem to notice. She just rolled her hips forward, spearing more of her cock into her damp mouth, forcing down the writhing carpet of her tongue with the sheer bulk of her shaft. Saliva squelched as it was buried past the midsection, shifting out the collected drool and quickly bumping into the back of her mouth - head against the spongy entrance to her throat. 

Tears sprung to Tharja’s eyes, but she did nothing but wince at the feel and taste of it; unable to move, only capable of lying there with her daughter on top of her, hands tied and pinned underneath her, tasting the shaft of her own creation and wincing for it. Noire just held herself there, not pushing any deeper, her head tilted back as she groaned - adjust to the feeling of her mouth, adoring the way the heat played across her sensitive prick and how the saliva slurped over it. She bit her lip and rolled her hips just a bit, rolling the shaft between her lips, stretching out cheeks comically, and battering away at her tongue. The older of the two gurgled in protest, but it fell on deaf ears as her daughter savoured the sensations of a mouth. 

“Very nice,” She groaned to herself. 

Then, with the same animalistic force and intensity she’d shown thus far, she started to move. Both hands immediately clamped around her skull, no longer just bracing her head to prevent retreat but actively clutching at it. The titfuck fell away as, with a feral smile, Noire began to facefuck her instead; pulling on her head, dragging her off her cock with a rough tug, and then forcing her head down onto it. Her hips bucked shallowly, only thrusting a bit inside, but it was more than enough to strain Tharja more than she already was.

Gurgling, she was able to do nothing at all in her vulnerable position as her head was yanked upon by her daughter so crudely. There was nothing to be done, and Noire was able to move as her animalistic passions dictated: forcing her soft mouth down onto her thick, throbbing length, jamming so many inches inside that it made her jaw ache, plunging down against her throat. She sputtered as the rubbery cocktip hit the back of her throat, bringing out her gag-reflex, before dragging back out with a hard movement that made her wince. 

Inches of fat cockmeat impaled her mouth in another rough push, with the length just ramming forward. It stretched out her lips and made her eyes water, and saliva squelched out obscenely. It hit the back of her throat and drove down, pushing through and into the tightness without qualm; stretching it out around her girth in mere moments, then sinking further still. Fingers curled around her scalp as Noire groaned in pleasure and doubled up on her movements, dragging her off with eye-watering force and then slamming her right back down again. 

She skullfucked her in with quick, brusque movements, slamming her down onto her cock without a care. Stretching out her throat around the width of her shaft, ramming it through the clenching tightness without a single care as to her well-being. Her tongue was flattened as it barreled past, rubbing and sliding against it almost cruelly. She battered past it and drove her cock through and into the tightness of her throat over and over, ramming it down with rushes of motion that left Tharja reeling.

Her head was shaken as it bounced along, captured and pulled by Noire’s tight hands. She was rocked along, helpless against her advance, shivering and wincing with each hard push through her mouth. She gurgled sloppily as the cock hammered away at her mouth, the shaft seeming to sink deeper and deeper with each push and pull of her daughter’s hands - forcing her along like a toy. Messy noises echoed out as saliva bubbled between her lips and dripped over her chin, which was unceremoniously battered by Noire’s swinging ballsack with each forward movement she made.

Noire was panting and sighing, supremely enjoying the feeling of her mouth, and she didn’t seem to want to stop as she thrust as deep as she could. She stretched out Tharja’s jaws and lips to obscene degrees as she thrust away at her mouth like it was nothing more than a toy for her pleasure. Tears ran from the corners of Tharja’s eyes and down her cheeks as the strain became too much for her to bear, and soon she wasn’t able to see through her bleary eyes - but Noire just kept going, thrusting and sighing, stretching her esophagus around her thrusting slab of cock.

The obscene knot thumped against her lips, almost as if seeking entry. That, too, hard her reeling, but everything was so intense she couldn’t concentrate on it. All she could do was struggle to stay in the right state of mind as the cock hammered away at her tight throat, stretching it out so badly that the impression of it could be seen through the skin. She gurgled and sputtered as air became short and her lungs began to heave, but Noire didn’t listen nor did she care as she thrust away at her mouth, fucking her throat for all it was worth.

The cock was big and thick enough to stretch out everything it touched, and the lining of her throat was remorselessly reamed out with each successive thrust. Her neck rippled with movement, breaths gurgling out around it, her ability to breath replaced with deepthroating the dick. She gurgled weakly as the saliva in her throat was dredged out on each deep thrust and sent spilling out of her strained lips in sloppy waves, spattering down against her neck. 

Noire grunted and groaned as she worked herself frantically, fucking her throat and face without pause. Fingers tangled in her hair as she brought her back and forth, dragging her along her prick, arms doing most of the work in burying her bitchbreaker inside. Newfound though it was, she handled it with sickly skill and sent her mother into a mind-numbed state that was difficult to get out of. Tharja had never felt so helpless or useless before, and where her daughter was achieving visible bliss, she was being ruined.

It was too much for Noire, though, and that was the only relief she got. Her daughter couldn’t manage such pleasure with her brand-new cock, and she was quickly pulsating in orgasmic release; cock swelling out just that little bit  _ more,  _ stretching out her throat further still for a few plaintive seconds before her grip unexpectedly faltered - and unintentional thing, and it was equally unintentional when Tharja, having been attempting to fight the entire time, sent her head flopping backward. 

The cock was abruptly and eye-wateringly popped out with a rush of sloppy fluids and a wet noise that would have made anyone blush - and all that paled in comparison to the sudden barrage of cum that was sent launching out from the tip. From her point of view, it looked like a wave of white, and all of that was dumped on her face; thick rivers of seed, slathered across her fine features without a care in the world. Noire moaned with delirious pleasure, her head rolling and cock pulsating, but for Tharja, all she could understand was seed suddenly plastering her face in warmth, sticking to the contours and curves and clinging there tenaciously.

She whimpered, hauling in air, as she received the thickest, most potent facial of her life. It felt like a bucket of cum deposited on her face, and though she recognized that it couldn’t be that much, it didn’t help her at all. Rationalization mattered little as ropes of babybatter were tossed over her face, drenching cheeks and chin and mouth in gooey thickness. It plastered itself there, thick and warm, and twice she had to flinch and avoid strings that threatened to get into her eyes. There was so much that it strained belief, and her belief was  _ already  _ strained. 

There was a single moment of pause as the orgasm tapered off. It was a single moment in which Noire breathed and straightened herself out after her first orgasm with her dick; and then she was immediately scooting back, her ravenous lusts preventing her from waiting a single moment, and where Tharja was still reeling, the girl was hard and eager. She grabbed her mother’s thighs while she was still struggling with the cum on her face, spread them wide, and aligned her cock with animalistic intuition. 

With a sudden, brusque moment, Noire sent her cock ramming forward; driving it against the cunt she’d so thoroughly lavished with attention minutes eagerly, and which was eager for attention. Tharja was sent squealing, backside arching painfully, as the cock thundered through her lower lips and impaled her cunt in a hard rush of movement that made her eyes water yet again. It stretched out walls obscenely as her daughter forced every last inch she could inside on that first thrust, and each inch that entered her body made her brain go fuzzy. 

The knot thumped against her lower lips, and Tharja’s eyes rolled up and into her skull. She wheezed, unable to stand the immense pressure exerted on her insides, but Noire suffered nothing but pleasure from it. Growling happily, she rolled her hips and shifted her massive girlcock inside of her walls, stretching them obscenely. Rolling them out, she dragged the cock outside of the cunt with a wet slurp, dragging along her smooth pussyflesh and forcing it out with a wet slurp - all before slamming it right back inside up to the fleshy knot, impaling her  _ again. _

Tharja wheezed as the cock stole her breath away, her lungs empty, unable to concentrate on anything but the feeling of the cock jamming into her tight tunnel. Noire growled, rolled her hips, and then did it again, driving her thick cock in as deep as she could go before pulling back. She rammed it inside with sudden and hard strokes, her pace picking up as if a switch were being toggled, and just started  _ thrusting;  _ hammering away at her mother’s tight twat, slamming down and into her with impossibly hard strokes, making lashes flutter and eyes roll.

Tharja couldn’t help it. She started to moan like an absolute whore as her daughter mounted her, held her thighs apart, and slammed down into her core with full-bodied thrusts that left her brain spinning; her head was weak, delirious, as shaky as her aching lungs. The breath was sent rushing out of them with each heavy thrust, sinking in painfully deep. The cockhead rammed against her cervix with the force of a battering ram, almost forcing it to give way before retreating again.

She moaned whorishly as the cock thundered through her cunt, sending her entire body into fits of shivering movement. Noire’s thrusts were so so strong that it lifted her hips up each time she rammed her cunt, the force just too much for her to bear lying down; her hips even jerked to meet it, as if that would, somehow, alleviate the eye-watering pressure. She mewled and groaned like a dockside slut as her potion-infected daughter fucked her snatch with such power and intensity that she’d never felt before, leaving her a mess. Her teary, cum-coated face was a mask of strain and awful bliss, and the liquids were shaken loose with each successive thrust. 

Noire’s movements were feral and unyielding, but despite that, her face was a mask of concentration. She stared at her intently as she speared her hips down, plowing her mother’s snatch with near-wild abandon - taking clear enjoyment out of it, but lacking that savage look from before. She, instead, leaned in, almost examining her face, all while her hips worked back and forth with strength; driving down and stretching out her cunt in great rushes that left Tharja moaning shamelessly, then unplugging her eye-watering girth from her insides just to do it all over again. 

Her daughter continued to lean in - repositioning herself further and further with each thrust, lowering her torso and better aligning herself until she was parallel to her mother. Her breasts scraped against Tharja’s bouncing pair, their stomachs just inches apart, and their faces closer still - noses almost brushing, all so that Noire could stare into her eyes and watch her expression. Tharja couldn’t even think about  _ why  _ such a position was embarrassing - she could only howl as the cock claimed her over and over again, driving the thoughts from her head with each hammer-like blow to her quim.

She squealed and wheezed as hips pounded down in a ceaseless rhythm, ramming with such force that her hips were forced up and into the air. Her stomach writhed as the cock slammed through her velvet channel in hard rushes of movement, forcing her walls to stretch painfully before clamping down around the broad girth that so thoroughly impaled her. She mewled sluttily as she was reamed out, fucked harder than she’d ever been, and all those noises, all those expressions, were shown freely to Noire. 

Her hips plowed down in an endless beat, sending her knot thumping against her core and her balls swinging down in pendulous, slapping arcs. Every moment made Tharja feel hazier and hazier, her mind spinning, the thump of the cockhead dazing her. She felt numbed and drunk at the moment, unable to piece together heads from tails, and she was reduced to a moaning mess as her daughter fucked her like a sailor freshly returned from sea and plowing a whore for his efforts.

Noire’s intention with her hard concentration, the closeness of their faces, and the hard, ramming pace was made awfully clear when her hips, mashing so hard that Tharja’s ass stopped hitting the floor entirely and was held up by the log of thrusting cockmeat alone, began to force  _ more  _ inside. That massive, slick knot, designed for holding cum inside their prey, began to force its way into her; something that took several forceful thrusts to achieve, but there was no inch of Tharja that could offer up any protest.

She was willing, plaintive, needy, horny, and Noire abused that. She forced her knot inside, pushing it into the entrance of her silken valley, and drawing the longest, sluttiest moan so far from her lips. The pleasure was immense, and the strain moreso; bringing tears to her eyes in seconds and making her entire channel ripple  _ hard.  _ The entry alone was enough to trigger another orgasm, and Tharja, this time, could only release a delirious giggle as her body was wracked with electric bliss.

That seemed to satisfy Noire, but her hips were still moving - fucking with the knot already buried within her entrance, her body not at all understanding how or why a knot worked. Where Tharja had been moaning before, now every breath was a groaning, slutty gasp and mewl; her entire body thrown into fits of delirious pleasure and impossible strain as her daughter’s hips thumped down, sliding her cock through her and dragging that fist-sized knot across her insides. It was too much for Tharja, and her overwhelmed body totally and utterly gave in. 

She moaned, groaned, and mewled, shouting out her pleasure with whatever breath remained, while Noire fucked her for a few more moments. Down she went, thrusting hard, panting under her breath as she watched her mother become increasingly senseless until she was no better than any other whore in the camp; her brain, clearly, not recognizing what she was doing in her lust-induced state, but absolutely adoring it all the same. She drove down over and over again, fucking even as her cock swelled and pulsated against inner walls, until she, too, reached her peak - and just like Tharja, let it all go.

Cum was pumped into her writhing depths at a heady and breathless pace as fast as the fucking and just as intense, too. Tharja was left whimpering as it surged through her tightness, drenching inches of pink in thick white, staining every possible bit of her with virile liquid. The potent baby-making fluid washed against her cervix, splattering across it in full before retracting like waves against the shoreline - and more joined it all the time, pumped out of her swollen balls at a pace too fast to follow. 

The gooey substance filled every available nook and cranny, more than she’d felt in her entire life. It was warm, almost searing, and it left her feeling dazed - and ropes of the stuff just kept coming, plastering its thickness across her walls and straining her tunnel more than it already was. It felt like too much to be contained inside, but with the knot clogging her like a stopper in a bottle, that was where it all  _ was  _ contained. There was nowhere else for it to go, and soon her cunt was bulging to the brim with the potent semen. 

Not a single drop escaped her. Everything was packed inside, and the cock continued to rhythmically pulse as it filled her up. Tharja, though, was gone, her brain having fled, her body on cloud nine; and Noire was wholly overwhelmed by the blissful relief of release, and with every bit of her body filling her with triumphant feelings, she slumped down. Exhausted, all the daughter did was lay on her mother, pinning her body beneath hers, and breathed out a sigh. 

  
  


* * *


End file.
